


Bad Egg

by woodenduck



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mid-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodenduck/pseuds/woodenduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys thinks about what he wants to do and who he wants to do it for while rolling around in the garbage and eating fried eggs.  Set during the Episode 3 road trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Teen rating is for swear words this fic is clean otherwise. It's also not too shippy yet but that's...coming.

  
  


There was only one thing Sasha missed from home. Or so she had told Rhys, anyway.

The two of them had been seated on the roof of the car, looking out at the stars in relative silence, when Sasha had broken it with a bitter laugh.

“Stupid moon,” she grumbled, “Kind of pretty for a soul-sucking corporate hellscape, though. I guess I haven’t really looked at it much. Living in a city in a cave doesnt give you much of a view.”

Rhys chuckled a little and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, well,” he said, somewhat hoarsely, “You don’t, you know, dump half a trillion dollars to build an ugly building, right?” He glanced over at her and hazarded a smile, not sure if his little joke would go over well or piss her off, but when their eyes met he could see that she was grinning, too.

“I guess not,” Sasha said with a sigh, “God, what scumbags. I bet you can’t wait to get back up there, though, huh? Get your cushy job back and go back to printing business cards for fun or whatever.”

“I’m actually, uh...I’m doing all right down here, really,” Rhys said, shooting her another uncertain half smile and getting an even wider one from her in response, “And I mean...I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed, with the cushy job and everything, and, wow, that’s the first time I’ve actually acknowledged it out loud, but...I dunno. I’m okay.”

“Wow,” Sasha said, raising her eyebrows in surprise for a moment but quickly returning to a more neutral expression, “I wasn’t expecting to hear that from you. Are you sure, though? I mean, you have that friend there still, right? She might help you get things figured out so you could come back, once this vault key makes us enough money to pay for what you lost.” Rhys shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said nonchalantly as he leaned backwards onto the roof, until he was lying on his back with his hands folded across his stomach, “I guess we’ll see. Hey, what about you? Is there anything you miss from back home?” He glanced over to smile at Sasha again, but his expression fell when he saw that her brow was furrowed and she wasn't smiling back this time, and he immediately regrets asking.

“Nah,” she said, just as he had been about to open his mouth to apologize, “Not really. The place was a shit hole, and the only person I care about from there is here with me. I really do miss my pots and pans, though, actually. I had a really nice set.”

Rhys would remember that. Sure, he knew it had been a deflection, but it still stayed on his mind for the next few days. It had been a nice set of cookware, he’d thought so himself when he’d seen it in Felix’s truck, and if Sasha had cared enough to get such good cooking supplies with what little she and Fiona were scraping together back at home it must have meant something to her. That was why, when the others had stopped to get some sleep and do some maintenance on the car, Rhys had quietly slipped away, only letting Loader Bot and Athena know where he was headed. Athena had grunted what Rhys had chosen to interpret as an acknowledgement and left him to it, but Loader Bot had insisted on accompanying him, on the grounds that he was not equipped with proper weaponry and that his tiny human legs would not get him where he wanted to go as fast as a rocket. Agreeing, Rhys had climbed up on Loader Bot’s shoulders, and the two of them set off together.

 

The pair was flying through the snowy night, now, and Rhys realizes regretfully that the fact that they had entered a much colder climate was going to make flying at such high speeds somewhat unpleasant. Every inch of exposed skin stings with the cold wind whipping at him, and it only takes a few minutes of flight for his eyes and nose to start dripping.

“My - sweetest - friend. Where - am - I - taking - you?” Loader Bot asks, and Rhys realizes with a jolt that he hadn’t even told loader bot where he wanted to go.

“O-oh...geeze, sorry LB, I saw like, a salvage yard or...scrap yard or...well, landfill, more likely, a few miles that way,” Rhys yells against the wind, pointing, “I just want to look around there for a few minutes, I shouldn’t be long.”

“Acknowledged. Rerouting,” Loader Bot says, before taking such a sharp turn that Rhys is nearly thrown off.

“You’re going to the dump?” says a voice that definitely wasn’t Loader Bot’s, and Rhys grimaces before looking over to see Handsome Jack perched on Loader Bot’s opposite shoulder, leaning back with his legs crossed nonchalantly and unaffected by gravity or momentum or the wind, “Jesus, I hope you aren’t gonna make a regular thing out of this. Blood and guts, I can handle, no problem, but wading through half eaten fish and gross creepy busted-up cat piss stained teddy bears and smelling all that rotting garbage, especially rotting Pandoran garbage, is just -- I know I’m a hologram, whatever, but I’ve got a weak stomach for that kind of thing, so unless you want to find out if Doctor Namakama took the time and effort to give me some kind of barfing function, which I sure as hell don’t, for a lot of reason, number one being -”

“Oh my god, will you shut up?” Rhys groans, thwacking himself in the temples several times, “You don’t even have a sense of smell.”

“Why - would - you - say - that?” Loader Bot says, with genuine hurt in his voice, “I - didn’t - choose - to - go - through - life - without - a - nose.” They were near enough to the gate surrounding the junkyard now for him to land, and when he does he drops Rhys rather unceremoniously and crosses his arms.

“No no no, buddy, not you, I’m sorry,” Rhys groans, gesturing placatingly with his hands, “I was just talking to...uhh…”

“Oh - right,” Loader Bot says, perking up again, “I - forgot - you - were - having - some - personal - problems. No - worries. I - will - wait - here - and - watch - you - from - a - distance. But - not - in - a - creepy - way.” He gives Rhys a thumbs up, which Rhys returns weakly before heading in through the gate.


	2. Chapter 2

The ground here isn’t quite cold enough for the falling snow to stick, so Rhys finds himself plodding through the mud as he makes his way along the path through the monstrously huge mounds of garbage. He agonizes briefly about dirtying his shoes, but a clattering sound to his left makes him realize he may have more urgent things to worry about. Suddenly, a group of three small skags runs across the trail in front of him, and he emits an earsplitting shriek as he jumps back and shields himself with his arms in front of him. To his embarrassment, it quickly becomes clear that he’s in no danger whatsoever, and he turns to give Loader Bot another sheepish thumbs up before continuing on his way, with Jack cackling hysterically at him the whole way.

“Way to go, killer,” Jack wheezes, “Did you just piss your pants? Ooh, yup, I think I see a wet spot right there! Hah!”

“I didn’t pee my pants!” Rhys protests, “It’s...wet...out here, I must have just-”

“Relax, relax, I’m just messing with you, kiddo,” Jack laughs, wiping his eyes and crossing his arms before falling in step beside him, “But seriously, what are you doing out here? Like, not just like, ‘why would anyone that isn’t a scavenger animal go to this dump on purpose,’ but why are you, a defenseless little man who’s scared of the dark and doesn’t even know how to hold a gun, out running around Pandora in the middle of the night with only a defective Loader Bot to protect you from the wildlife and the locals?”

“I’m...I guess I didn’t think this through that hard,” Rhys stammers, before attempting to harden his expression into something less frightened and vulnerable as he begins kicking at the garbage to halfheartedly rummage through it, “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“Uh, haha, yuh-huh, it is my business,” Jack scoffs, “If you get ripped to shreds by some kinda animal out here you’ll be taking me with you, so, yeah, I’d say that qualifies as ‘my business,’”

“I’m just -” Rhys starts, before being interrupted by the sound of a couple of cans that come clattering down from the top of the mound as a result of his kicking, “- looking for something. For Sasha.” That seems to surprise Jack, and he stands there for a moment, looking at Rhys with his eyebrows raised, and Rhys, unable to meet his eyes and not particularly wanting to anyway, he gets down and starts rummaging through the trash that’s closest to the ground with a little more intent than before.

“For Sasha,” Jack repeats slowly with a smack of his lips, “That’s the chick with the hair, right?”

“Yes, oh my God, Sasha, the ‘chick with the hair,’” Rhys says incredulously, flushing and shaking some unidentifiable gunk off of his hand while trying not to retch, “Sasha, who we see, and talk to, like, every day and whose name you should definitely know by now, but you don’t, somehow, because you’re -”

“Preoccupied?” Jack cuts in, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry, kid, I’m just real focused on getting us to this vault, it really takes up a looot of the mental energy I’d usually be spending on learning people’s names and junk like that, you know what I mean?”

“Definitely wasn’t gonna say preoccupied,” Rhys mutters quietly, shaking his head. Jack, who was now floating in the air beside him with his hands folded behind his head, doesn’t seem to hear him.

“You know, I, uh...I felt some ways about a gal once, you know?,” Jack says, “So I uhh...I know how that is, I getcha.” After a stunned moment, Rhys whips his head around, ready to deny everything, but when he catches sight of Jack the words he’d been preparing get stuck in his throat. He’s still smiling, but he looks distant, almost...sad. In all the time they’d spent mashed together in the same body, Rhys had never once seen him like this. Jack had always been kind of inhuman to him, in some way or another. Before, it had been out of veneration for the person that all the Hyperion propaganda said he was. When they’d gotten stuck together, after he’d seen firsthand the planet laid to waste by Jack’s design and met the good people whose lives he’d destroyed, he’d started to shift in Rhys’s mind from a deity to an unfeeling monster, looming over him, ready to snap and take control at any second if Rhys didn’t watch his step. 

And yet, here he was, the ghost of the untouchable Handsome Jack, looking despondent about a love lost, if only for a moment. Rhys is faced with the dizzying realization that the man he had spent so many years convincing himself he wanted to be had died alone.

“You know, slugger, ladies don’t usually like getting gifts out of the garbage,” Jack says, breaking the brief silence. His usual smirk takes its place back on his face, “She is Pandoran though, so, who knows.” Shaking his head, Rhys snaps himself out of his thoughts, his brow furrowing. He doesn’t grace Jack’s comment with a response, instead turning his attention to using his ECHO eye to scan the garbage more effectively. With the help of his implants, he’s able to quickly identify a cast iron skillet among the trash.

“Bingo,” he murmurs to himself. Unfortunately, the pan is close to the top of of one of the piles. He makes his way over to it, and, after tossing a few rocks in the hopes that he’ll be able to knock it down, realizes that he’s going to have to climb. Making a sour face, he takes a moment to psych himself up before gingerly onto the top of a broken microwave, then onto the armrest of a busted couch, and so on, and so forth, plugging his nose with one hand to block out the noxious scents that were now surrounding him.

“Ohoh, so not only are you getting Sarah a gift out of the landfill, you’re gonna go to her smelling like sulfur?” Jack laughs, floating up beside Rhys just as he missteps and puts his foot in a greenish-blacking pile of goop that was buzzing with flies and gags audibly, “That’s swell.”

“Sasha,” Rhys chokes in a nasally voice, gritting his teeth. He glances down behind him, briefly, and the way his head spins immediately makes him wish he hadn’t.

“Right, that one. Well, you know, pal,” Jack drawls, as Rhys whimpers and searches for another foothold, “Even if she does like getting...what’s that thing you’re going for up there, is that a saucepan? Even if your girl does like getting wooed with rusty scum-covered saucepans for some reason, you do realize your relationship with her is pretty much doomed, right? With her sister, too.” Jack waits for a reaction, and seems to be encouraged when Rhys stops his climb to hang his head despondently.

“I know it’s rough, kid,” He continues, “I know you think they’re your buddies right now, but they want a vault, first and foremost. And you, you -- you’ve got bigger and better things to move onto. You’ve got Hyperion, you are Hyperion, and that’s not something they understand, and they definitely won’t understand the little camaraderie you and me have got going on here. I mean, you know you can’t ever tell them about me, right? You don’t need me to explain what a colossally bad idea that would be, right?”

Jack’s words make Rhys’s stomach flop, even more than the smell of the dump or even his fear of heights. He had avoided thinking about this for as long as he could, always figuring he could tell them about Jack another day whenever the thought had occurred to him, always putting it off further and further. Even though Rhys knew Jack would say just about anything to get him to go along with his agenda, he couldn’t help but feel that this time, he was actually right.

“Ugh, will you just --” Rhys starts, cutting himself off with a yelp as he stumbles and slides down a couple of feet before regaining his footing, “-- j-just screw off. For, like, two seconds, please.”

“A-ha-ha-halright,” Jack chuckles, “Alright, alright, we can chat later. I’m getting sick of the view, anyway, this is some truly gross shit. Good luck, be safe, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’ve got any friends. Peace.” With that, Jack vanishes in a puff of pixels, but the relief Rhys usually felt when Jack dematerialized doesn’t come.

After a bit more floundering, Rhys finally gets close enough to the pan to grab it by the handle and work it free. It’s something of a struggle, but eventually Rhys is able to pop it free. There’s a little rust on it, but nothing that can’t be taken care of, and otherwise it’s in pretty good condition for something got thrown away.

“Woo-hoo!” Rhys shouts, holding the pan above his head triumphantly, “Hey, Loader Bot, check me out! I’m king of the -”

Unfortunately, the celebration is cut short when the trash Rhys is standing on starts to shift and slide beneath him, adjusting to the removal of the skillet. Before he has time to react, he’s tumbling and rolling down the mountain of schlock, screaming all the way, and by the time he’s lying on his back at the bottom he’s covered in so much muck and grease that the original colors of the outfit he’s wearing are almost indiscernible.

“Uuuhhh…” he moans, blinking into the blinding redness that was now looming over him. Slowly, his eyes come back into focus, and he sees that the source of the red light is Loader Bot’s optic.

“Did - you - roll - with - the - fall?” he asks, and Rhys can only nod dizzily and let out another groan. Looking down at his hands, his face breaks into a delirious smile when he finds that, to his relief, he’s still gripping the handle of the skillet so tightly that his knuckles are starting to turn white. Loader Bot looks at him silently, glancing between Rhys’s face, the pan, and then up at the top of the pile of trash from which Rhys had just made his graceful descent.

“Why - didn’t - you - just - have - me - fly - you - to - the - top - of - the --” he starts, but Rhys immediately does a lip-zipping motion with his hand and shakes his head vigorously.

“Bupupup! Uh uh! Nee-ope!” he says, getting up and dusting himself off, “Not thinking about that now, not going there, it’s done, the climbing was completely necessary, none of that was avoidable, it’s done, we’re going back to the car, no talking, let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

Upon arriving back at the camp and hopping off of Loader Bot’s shoulders, Rhys is surprised to find that the campfire around which his friends had been sitting had been extinguished. He hadn’t thought his trip had taken that long, but a quick look at his watch tells him that he’d spent well over two hours at the dump. Somewhat relieved that it seemed he would be able to slip into the bathroom and quietly get washed up before any of the others had time to comment on his current state of dishevelment, he steps onto the bottom step of the truck and begins to open the door to the truck.

“Hi, Rhys! Hi, Loader Bot!” chirps a familiar voice from on top of the truck, and Rhys looks up with a start to Gortys peering at them from the top of the car and waving at them energetically, “I’m so glad you guys are back!”

“Hey, hey, yeah, it’s, uh, good to see you too, Gortys,” Rhys says, lowering his voice to a whisper, “Really great, but, uh, everyone’s sleeping, so, can you keep your voice down? Huh buddy? You and Loader Bot can play the, uh, quiet game, remember that one?” He finds himself stumbling over his words a little - he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to speaking to someone so cheery and genuine.

“Ohh, right, yes,” Gortys whispers back, covering her “mouth” with her hands, “Oops. Oh, shoot, did it start already?”

“No, you’re okay, not yet,” Rhys breathes, as Loader Bot gently alights on the roof of the vehicle and takes his usual spot next to her, “We’re starting in 3...2...1...now.” Both of the robots are silent, now, to Rhys’s relief, and he’s able to carefully open the door and let himself inside.

The vehicle Scooter had given them was a fairly cramped place for five people to sleep, especially since Vaughn was stuck rigidly sprawled out in just about the least space-conservative position he possibly could have been in. At one point, Athena had suggested that they prop him up against the wall at night to make more room for sleeping bags on the floor, but Rhys had insisted on putting him in one of the two foldout beds. Fiona slept in the other tonight, curled up and hugging her pillow, and Rhys sees that Athena is sitting upright in the corner with her head turned downwards, snoring gently. Everyone was accounted for except -

“Hey,” comes a low voice from the front of the car, and Rhys whirls around to see Sasha sitting in the driver’s seat. She has a puzzled look on her face, and Rhys sees her eyes flit to the saucepan he has clutched in his hand just before he has the chance to tuck it behind his back and flash her what he could only hope was a disarming smile.

“Hey, Sash,” he murmurs, “Just..went out...for a walk, you kn-”

“Wait, what’s that you’re hiding?” she asks, squinting at him before hopping up and lightly making her way across the room to peer behind his back.

“No no, wait, hold on! It’s not --” Rhys stammers, attempting to use his height to an advantage and hold it out of Sasha’s reach, but she’s much stronger than him even with the added strength of his prosthetic, and she easily pulls his arm down to her level and plucks it out of his hand.

“Oh my God, you stink!” she hisses, holding her nose with one hand and grimacing as she turns the rusty pan over, considering it, “What is --”

Suddenly, she stops herself short, and looks at Rhys with widened eyes before raising one eyebrow and smiling.

“It’s...not really ready,” Rhys chuckles quietly, tugging on his collar, “It’s for you, though, I was hoping you’d be asleep so I could go clean it, and...clean myself, too, ideally, before I gave it to you, but...hey, you already found it, so...here’s a dirty pot, yaaay, what a great present, right?”

“It is a great present,” Sasha says, beaming at it and scratching idly at a spot of rust before turning her warm expression to Rhys, “...Really. It’s sweet, I...thank you, Rhys, I really love it.” For a second, Rhys can only stare, dumfounded by her gratitude. He feels himself blushing, and does his best to remind himself that he’s a twenty-seven year old adult man and not a fourteen year old boy with a prep school crush, but his attempts utterly fail when she steps forward and hugs him around his middle. His bones turn to jelly, and his hands hover over her before settling weakly around her shoulders.

“Oh, God, buddy, God, I’m sorry, but you really smell like ten thousand rotten eggs,” she coughs quietly, pulling away with something like reluctance and patting him on the shoulder, “I’m not even gonna ask.”

“Yeah,” Rhys croaks, clearing his throat and bringing himself down from the cloud he had been floating on, “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. I’m gonna go change and wash my...everything.”

“Yup,” Sasha agrees, and they share a long, lingering smile and say a few too many goodnights before heading their separate ways.

 

Sleep comes quickly to an exhausted Rhys, and in the morning when he blinks himself awake, he’s surprised to find that the first sight he sees is Sasha sitting cross legged on the floor in front of his sleeping bag, idly shuffling a deck of cards. Sitting up, he rubs his eyes somewhat dazedly, and when his eyes come into focus he can see that she is now grinning at him.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she says, setting the cards down, “Guess what. I got the pan all cleaned up, and I found a nest full of rakk eggs. I thought it was only fair that you got to try the first meal I made with your little present. How ‘bout it?”

“Wuhh,” Rhys burbles sleepily, not quite awake enough yet to keep up with her eager chattering, “Guhh...oh. Yeah, that sounds great, Sash.”

“Great,” she says, hopping to her feet and immediately offering Rhys a hand up, and Rhys realizes that this is happening right now, this very minute. He takes her hand and is nearly yanked to his feet, which effectively wakes him up the rest of the way, and plops himself down at the table.

“All right, it’ll just be a minute,” Sasha says, smiling at him over her shoulder as she turns on the little electric stove and gets to work, “Sit tight and prepare to be blown away. Well, maybe not, it’s just eggs and toast, but it’ll be really good eggs and toast.”

“You’re cooking something?” interjects a harsh voice that gives Rhys a slight jolt, and he looks over to see Athena standing stiffly in the doorway.

“Oh, Athena!” Sasha says brightly, “Just a quick breakfast before we hit the road, yeah, Rhys got us a frying pan on that weirdo adventure he went on last night, do you want eggs?”

“...Sure,” she says, her brow unfurrowing very slightly and only for a moment, and she sits down roughly in the chair beside Rhys. He shifts his own, slightly, doing his best to time it to seem as though he was only trying to give her enough room, and not that he was scooting away from her. It only takes a few minutes for her to finish preparing the meal, and when she does, she sets down two plates and a pair of forks in front of them before folding her hands in front of her and smiling at them expectantly.

“Awesome, thank you Sasha,” Rhys says, smiling at her and cutting a bite for himself before lifting it to his mouth.

The slightly burned smell should have warned him, but it’s not until Rhys begins chewing that he registers that this has to be the most foul tasting thing he’s ever put into his mouth. The consistency of both the egg white and the toast is cardboard, the yolk is completely uncooked, and he feels as though he might as well have poured the entire contents of a salt shaker into his mouth. Struggling with all the will and strength in his body to keep something like a pleased expression on his face, he looks over at Athena, who, to his horror, was trying significantly less than he was to conceal her disgust.

“Wow, Sasha!” he almost shouts as soon as he’s forced the food down his throat, staring at Athena pointedly, “This is really delicious! Super great! I can really tell how important cooking is to you, because this is, wow, this is just amazing.” Unfortunately, Athena did not seem to be the best on picking up on social queues, because she spits the bite out onto the plate and proceeds to gag openly.

“What the hell is wrong with your taste buds?!” she spits, wiping her mouth on her hand, “This is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted! Sasha, oh my God, how do you even mess up eggs and toast this badly? It’s eggs and toast!”

Rhys’s heart breaks a little at the way Sasha’s face falls, and when she turns to look at him he frantically crams another bite into his mouth.

“Well, I don’t know what Athena’s talking about, because this is g-great,” he chokes, “Because this is the best --”

“Rhys,” Sasha interrupts, her voice resigned, “Your eyes are watering.”

“Oh, that? I’m just -- bluurgh -- crying for joy, because this is the greatest --”

“Rhys, it’s fine,” she says curtly, cutting him off again with a forced laugh, “It’s stupid, I’m gonna go...check on Gortys. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

She laughs awkwardly before power walking towards the ladder to the roof, her head turned downwards in embarrassment, and as soon as she’s gone Rhys lets the food fall out of his mouth onto the plate in front of him. He gives Athena a despairing look, and the confusion on her face fades as she finally takes Rhys’s hint.

“Oh,” she says, “You were lying. To make her feel better. Well. That’s a stupid thing to lie about.” Despite the harshness of her words, Rhys is surprised to find that Athena is looking at him with softer expression than she ever has before.

“Yeah, I mean...yeah, I guess so,” Rhys mumbles, looking down at his knees, “From the way she talked about cooking I just knew it was important to her, so I didn’t want to let her down about it, you know?”

“Yeah,” Athena says, tapping her foot and pursing her lips uncomfortably, “Well...sorry for blowing it. I guess I’ll apologize to her later, too. I’m gonna go.”

“O --” Rhys opens his mouth, but she’s up and out the door before he can finish the thought, “ -- kay. Bye Athena. Great talk, man.”

 

It’s a good ten minutes later before Rhys has psyched himself up enough to head up to the roof to talk to Sasha, and when he’s at the top of the level he takes several deep breaths before opening the hatch and hoisting himself the rest of the way up. To his relief, he finds her chatting happily with the robots, and she gives him a wave of acknowledgement as he sits down next to her.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey, yourself,” Rhys says, crossing his legs, “You, uh are you --”

“Look, it’s fine,” she laughs, shaking her head, “You guys didn’t crush my soul or anything. I just, you know, I thought I was really good because Fiona always told me how great my food was. She’s a way better liar than you are, though.”

“Yeah,” Rhys sighs, relieved, “You’re not going to like...give up on it, though, are you?”  
“No way,” Sasha laughs, “I’ll just buy some cookbooks and work on getting better. Maybe I’ll take cooking classes with some of the money we get from all this vault business, right? You can be my test subject if you want, but you have to be honest with me from here on out. Promise?”

The question is an innocent one, but the phrasing makes Rhys’s stomach churn with guilt and fear.

“Yeah, I...Sasha…” he mumbles.

“Uhh...yeeeeah?” Sasha says, raising one eyebrow and looking at him expectantly. He swallows thickly, and his heart hammers against his ribcage as he very seriously considers telling her right here and now about the horrible secret he’s been carrying around in his skull, the one that had been wearing him down to his bones the second he’d stuck that stupid ID drive into his head.

Instead, he smiles weakly, and extends his hand with his little finger extended.

“Yeah,” he says, “Pinky promise.”


End file.
